counting stars
by she is a firework
Summary: AU Drabble!Series. They're far from a cliché pair. —NatsuLucy.
1. one: girls do what they want

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>Drabble!Series, yay!

.

.

.

.

.

It's eleven minutes to midnight and Lucy is a new kind of lost

(perhaps because of her annoyance but probably down to all the vodka she's been drinking tonight)

but she really doesn't mind.

She stands in the middle of a street that she doesn't recognise and holds out her hands to cradle the flakes of snow, tumbling down to the ground, down into the palms of her bare hands. She acknowledges, even in her drunken stupor, that she most likely looks like an idiot. She doesn't care, though, because the logical part of her which is still hovering behind the alcohol-induced haze says that, because she's in a place she doesn't recognise, she won't see any people she recognises.

Therefore, Lucy doesn't give a damn what she does. It's not like anyone who sees will ever be able to recall it to her.

A familiar pair of hands come to rest on her shoulders. She giggles lowly, shaking the pale dust from her fingertips. "You followin' me, Natsu?"

"...Come on, Lucy, time for me to take you home."

Lucy wriggles in his all-too proverbial grasp, so that she's looking up—no, _pouting _up at that sculpted face and that pale red hair and those pretty amber-yellow-brown eyes that remind her of the summertime, the happier time.

She giggles, again. "I'd rather take _you_ home."

And then he's against the wall, snowflakes on his clothes and that _lunatic's_ lips pressed onto his own.

She tastes like everything he can't have.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **Lalalalaaa.


	2. two: drink myself to death

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>For Jenny. You make me giggle like a...whatever.

.

.

.

.

.

Lucy's not an insider.

She's not one who follows the crowd, drinks what everyone else drinks, does what everyone else does. She doesn't do _who_ everyone else does.

Lucy's an _outsider_, and damn proud.

She looks around at the crowds, all squirming sweaty bodies and lingering hands, moving in time with the heavy bass of the nightclub's sound system. The neon lights flash in the dark above her head—blue, green, pink, orange, and blue again, and green again, and she squints, grimacing; they hurt Lucy's head, when she's sober.

Sat at the bar, she simply observes, drink in hand, and watches the people on the dance floor, one level below her, raving and clinging and practically _dry-fucking_ right there in the club, with strangers they'll probably never see again.

Lucy's lips are pierced in a snarl, angry at them, angry at herself. She knocks back her glass and downs the liquid inside, puckering her face at the bitterness. "Can't believe I'm like that when I'm drunk. That's disgusting."

On the barstool beside her, Natsu smirks. "And you don't remember being like that? You only know 'cuz I tell you?"

A small shake of the head. "It's like I'm schizo, or something. Freak out, pass out, then...nothin'."

"Are you—" Natsu pauses, considering his own words before he says that. "Are you going to do that tonight?"

Lucy rotates on the stool, propping her elbow on the bar. She traces small patterns on the sticky countertop, an expression of complete serenity on her face. It's almost worrying, Natsu thinks, how collected she looks; it's not Lucy at all.

_Of course it's Lucy. This is how she _should_ be._

"Luce?"

"Nah," Her voice is hushed, her eyes closed. Her eyelashes send large, spider-like shadows dancing down her cheeks, almost like streaks of mascara. "I ain't gonna drink that much. Promise."

Natsu doesn't know what to think of himself the next morning, when she's asleep in his bed.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **LOLIDON'TEVEN.


	3. three: i've never looked better

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>P!ATD marathon. Just sayin'.

.

.

.

.

.

Her dress was gorgeous.

Lucy was pouting, no, _scowling_ as she made her way down the Heartfilia Manor's grand staircase. She did not look at all pleased to be in the position she was, but no matter how deep her frown, how tight her lips, Natsu thought she looked beautiful. Ankle-length dresses were surprisingly becoming on her.

Her fingers danced along the handrail, creating a beautiful, silent piano composition. She had slim fingers; she looked like a fairytale princess on her way to the grand piano, so elegant, so pretty_pretty_.

And then she looked up and smirked, and this, Natsu realised, was no fairytale.

"So, pretty boy," Lucy announced, flapping one gloved hand dismissively at her tuxedo-clad date. "Do I look awesome?"

"You—you look beautiful."

"Mm, I suspected you'd say something stupid like that."

She reached down, curling her fingers into the material of her (probably expensive) dress, and pulled; the fabric tore with a heart wrenching ripping sound. She stood, hands on her hips, smiling triumphantly and still holding the shreds of skirt. "And now I look awesome."

"What did—why—" Natsu blinked at her exposed legs, and then at the shredded silk in her left hand. "Why did you _do_ that?"

"Tch," Brown eyes rolled ceiling-ward. "My 'rents don't know me at all. Long dresses at prom are so overrated."

Natsu shook his head slowly, disbelieving. Why was this lunatic his prom date, again? Perhaps he was high?

"Don't look so disapproving; you love me, really!"

Oh. Yeah, there was that, too.

Idly tearing the tops of each finger on her gloves, she stepped into her red converse, just to match. "Well, 's go, then."

She threaded an arm through his.

"You look really nice tonight, Natsu."

For a minute, Natsu thought Lucy might have been blushing.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **One day, I will write a piece with no dialogue, whatsoever. Await that day. I am.


	4. four: if i ever leave—

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>So, basically, I'm kinda in love with my life right now.

.

.

.

.

.

There's not much you can look for in an empty room. If it's empty, it's empty.

Natsu stands in the doorway of Lucy's vacant apartment, and looks at nothing in particular.

(What _is_ there to look at? The floor? The walls?)

That girl.

Ugh, God. She'll be the death of him, eventually.

He closes his eyes tight and wishes it all away but when he opens his eyes again, the room's still empty and deathly silent and—ugh, _fuck_.

"Where are you, Luce?" He mumbles with no real feeling.

Then it hits him.

And so he runs.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **The next one will be a follow-up. :D


	5. five: —i will learn to miss you

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>Follow-uppppp.

.

.

.

.

.

She's not even wearing a coat, Natsu finds, when he arrives at the top of the hill—_their_ hill. Stupid girl; she never takes any care, does she? It's the middle of _November_.

He sits beside the frowning blonde girl without a word. She doesn't react at all. She doesn't even seem to acknowledge his presence. They sit in a stunning silence for...what seems like forever and a day.

"You realise that if you stay here in the cold without a coat for any longer," Natsu drags out with a sigh, but secretly, he's glad he's found her. "You will freeze. Correct?"

Lucy swigs from the bottle of vodka at her Converse-clad feet before pinching her face at the burning sensation in her throat. "You think I care about shit like that?"

"You should care," Shrug. "It's not healthy to get hypothermia."

No response. And then, "I'm leaving, Natsu. If you came to stop me, it won't work."

Natsu reaches across her bent legs to retrieve the bottle. He, too, swigs from the bottle, more capable of handling the taste than she; he places it back on the grass between them, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "I didn't come to persuade you out of going."

"Then what _did_ you come for?"

"I came," he plucks a pinhead-sized ball of fluff from his jeans. "to say goodbye."

Lucy stares at the sky for a moment, two. It's pitch black up there, bar the tinytiny pricks of white light that are the stars; never has she seen a sky so clean.

"Well, bye, Natsu." She gently pushes the bottle closer to him, careful not to spill a drop. "Have this to, um, remember me by."

As Lucy gets to her feet, Natsu averts his gaze, instead choosing to focus it on the ground in front of him. He picks grass from the dirt before throwing it to the wind. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and flinches.

"Thank you for everything," her voice is but a whisper, and then she's gone again.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **Aww. Hey, pretty quick update, right? What was that, like, half an hour? ;D


	6. six: the gun's in my hand

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>Coffeeeeee.

.

.

.

.

.

"Put the gun away," Lucy held up her hands. "_Please_."

Feeling: complete and utter fear. An odd desire to stay where she was. An unexpected calmness.

She stared down the barrel of the gun held in front of her face and into the eyes of her predator. This homeless man held a sadness in his eyes—a sadness that reminded Lucy all too much of herself. "You can have my wallet. You can have my jewellery, my phone, my shoes—whatever. Just please, put the gun away.

Natsu watched Lucy's expression fade from half-calm, half-terrified, into a look of sympathy.

Sirens roared in the background. The homeless man let the gun clatter to the floor, and he fled.

Lucy crinkled her face up.

"I have no fuckin' idea what that was about. Crazy homeless man," she shrugged. " And you, why didn't you intervene? You're my boyfriend. You're not meant to let the girl do all the negotiating when you come into a life-or-death situation."

"I guess I just froze. Besides," Natsu offered a charming smile, hoping to get his way like she did with him. "You handled the situation so much better than I ever would have."

She stooped beside the gun and twirled it in her hand. "'s a good gun. You'd think a homeless guy wouldn't be able to afford something like this."

Natsu looked on.

"...never thought I'd find myself holdin' one of these again."

She tossed it aside, leaving the gun, and her old memories, behind.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **Huuur, what?


	7. seven: i'm still breathing

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>I have Golden Nuggets. My life. /heart.

.

.

.

.

.

There was something about silence that made Lucy seethe; she couldn't stand it. It made everything so much more awkward, more tense. It prevented her from airing her thoughts.

And so, Lucy was not the sort to stay silent when she was angry.

"You prick," she hissed, before lunging at Natsu.

Levy, with a frightened expression, was quick to hook her arms around Lucy's, holding the struggling, shouting girl back from _killing_ poor Natsu. Well—not _really_ poor Natsu. He kind of deserved to have Lucy set on him. Okay, he _really_ deserved to have Lucy set on him. But Levy wasn't the type to find enjoyment in watching pain, which is why she kept hold of the blonde with all her might, pulling her steadily backwards and whispering in her ear.

Natsu looked at her from underneath his eyelashes. "Please, stop, Lucy."

"Why should I?"

"Levy's struggling."

Levy looked away.

"And she's going to have to keep struggling because I really—want—to _kill_ you, right now." Lucy was spitting, but she'd stopped wriggling in Levy's grip; she wrenched her arms away, and stalked forward. "So, you—you break up with _me_, which yeah, okay, I'm fine with that, I've had it happen before, but then you start dating my best friend and break _her_ heart? Why? Are you—are you making your way through all the girls I know?"

"Luce—"

"No! Don't _Luce_ me," She jabbed one painted pink nail at his chest, digging until she could feel his ribs under her fingertip. "Try and break _my_ heart, I don't care. But fuck with my friends—"

"I still love you, Luce."

She stared up at him, eyes wide. Frantic, all of a sudden, she whipped around to Levy for advice, for a reassuring smile, only to find her blue-haired friend slipping through the apartment door. Lucy seethed, and turned back to Natsu. "You—love...l-love..."

She punched him in the gut and left the room.

.

.

.

.

.

"Moron." She muttered, as she slipped her arms around him.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **_Review_, please! :D


	8. eight: in love with the sun

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>I walked into a lamp post yesterday. It really hurt. D:

.

.

.

.

.

The sun danced on the lake, and Lucy had never looked so beautiful as she splashed around in the shallow water. Her mouth was stretched in a smile, her hair pinned back. She looked like a little girl, again, innocent as the day she met Natsu. Her summer dress was soaked, but she didn't seem to care a bit. Natsu watched her from the bank, smiling to himself.

She flicked water droplets from her fingers and turned, heading back up the bank towards him. Her wet skin glittered under the midday sun as she moved, arms flailing, towards him. Her smile was still intact. She sat herself down beside him and chuckled. "I got water down my dress. It's so cold but so _nice_."

Natsu laughed quietly and threw an arm around her shoulders. "You didn't have to go in the lake to cool down, you know. You could've just taken your clothes off."

Lucy blushed and slapped his hand. "Perv."

"I was joking."

"You're still a perv."

Natsu valued days like this more than anything.

The sun danced on the lake.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **Shortest one yet. But probably my best, I think?


	9. nine: like a work of art

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>Yo. It's been a while.

.

.

.

.

.

Lucy stands in front of the mirror, and isn't quite sure what she sees in herself anymore.

She reaches up and, one by one, removes her earrings, dainty diamonds embedded into the silver plates. Her hair clips are next. Platinum hair tumbles down around her shoulders, curly from being held in that one extravagant style for so long. She takes a makeup wipe to her face, replaces her elegant (expensive) black dress with a dressing gown.

She sits at her dresser, hands folded neatly in her lap, staring at the cosmetics on the surface. They tease her—wear me, wear me. Make yourself _pretty_, sunshine.

She senses someone enter the dressing room—no, not enter. They hover in the doorway, pensive as to whether they should enter or not. Lucy doesn't turn to face them. She just looks at their reflection in the mirror. "You can come in, you know."

Natsu half-smiles, and approaches Lucy from behind. He wraps his arms around her middle and buries his nose in her hair. Hairspray and baby powder.

"You looked beautiful on the runway, tonight," he murmurs, moving his head to hide in the crook of her neck. She reacts, touching his face with unpainted nails, planting brief but chaste kisses on his forehead.

"I didn't feel beautiful," her voice is a whisper, a final breath. "I'm not made for the runway. I'm no beauty queen, and you know it."

He pulls away, fingers lingering on her shoulder.

"You don't have to be a beauty queen to be beautiful."

She smiles at herself in the mirror.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **Kudos to anyone who can tell me what song inspired this. ;D


	10. ten: i feel like dancing, tonight

**title: **counting stars.  
><strong>written by: <strong>she is a firework.  
><strong>notes: <strong>Long time no see. And that would be because of a totally dead laptop. Forever and ever. D:  
>But I have a <em>new<em> laptop now. Shiny.  
>FINAL DRABBLE.<p>

.

.

.

.

.

It's a dizzy mess of flashing lights and the burn of vodka in the back of Natsu's neck.

He's drunk. Completely _smashed_.

Lucy—the barkeep, and is it bad he frequents this club so often that he knows her name—leans across the bar and places a hand on his shoulder. "I think you've had enough, sunshine."

"Nahh," Natsu murmurs, tipping his head and planting a kiss on her cheek—Lucy flushes red. "Never had enough, Toots. _Never_."

She sneaks the glass from his hands, and he doesn't even notice.

Later, she sneaks from behind the bar and into his arms, and nobody really notices.

.

.

.

.

.

**notes: **Trololol, this is so short, I totally ripped you guys off.  
>But I hope you've enjoyed it! :)<p> 


End file.
